


A Deeper Shadow, a Darker Desire (Pray the Old Gods My Soul to Take)

by JamieisClassic



Series: Spook'o'Ween 2020 [3]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: An Egregious Misuse of Void Tendrils, Bondage, Coming Untouched, Dark Anduin, Double Vaginal Penetration, Dubious Consent, F/M, Interrogation, Old Gods Corrupted Anduin, Tentacle Sex, no PIV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:46:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27032911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamieisClassic/pseuds/JamieisClassic
Summary: Anduin's scouts capture Sylvanas and he finally gets the interrogate her. However, he is not the sweet little lion she fought at Lordaeron, and she ends up far more at his whims than either of them had anticipated.orA Very Xal'atath-corrupted Anduin plays with Sylvanas in a special interrogation cell.
Relationships: Sylvanas Windrunner/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Spook'o'Ween 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949278
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	A Deeper Shadow, a Darker Desire (Pray the Old Gods My Soul to Take)

**Author's Note:**

> As a note, they don't ever physically touch and he doesn't fuck her literally, this is all just tentacle porn. I'm taking massive liberties with canon and I'm am NOT sorry in the least, don't @ me. This is almost purely self-indulgent, and it's not my best work, but I hope some people enjoy it anyway.

“We’ve got her, my liege,” Shaw informed him from the entrance to his office, and Anduin looked up to see the man in uncharacteristic disarray. 

“She given you trouble?” he asked, capping his pen and putting it and his inkwell back into his desk neatly. He stood, walking around the desk toward Shaw and following him out of the room. 

“Difficult to keep chained a woman who can turn herself into smoke, my liege. We managed to get her into an air-tight box but once we let her out we’re not sure how to hold her,” Shaw admitted, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. 

_ ‘We can take care of that, what better to hold a shadow than a shadow?’  _ crooned the voice in his head, and Anduin smirked. Yes, that would serve indeed.

“Do not worry yourself about that,” he said, “I’ll take care of keeping her contained until she talks. Perhaps afterwards; I’m sure the Horde will want to take her into their custody and try her for her crimes. Do not let her capture become public information, understood? I intend to keep her for myself for now and that would only strain our armistice further.” 

Further than he already had by allowing Alleria to use the void on Horde civilians, he meant. Further than his obliteration of Horde forces in Ny'alotha and covering of N’Zoth’s survival would if that news were ever to get out. He was grateful his spymaster was so good at keeping secrets, otherwise the armistice would already long be broken and they would be at war again. That, he’d decided, could come after they’d dealt with Sylvanas. When her plans and the threat they posed to the world were passed then N’Zoth would be of no use to him and he could reveal his deception to the world, but until that time he would keep it hidden for as long as he needed to. 

_ ‘Do not lie, little king, you like the power too. You like knowing you chained such a powerful creature and bent it to your will. You’ll like bending her just as much,’  _ the voice continued in his mind, and he smirked. Yes, it had been a sweet thing to manipulate Wrathion into giving him the blade and using the dragon’s essence to bind N’Zoth. She assured him Wrathion would be fine once they released N’Zoth to destroy him, but until then he deserved to suffer for what he’d done to the world, for his hand in the Legion invasion that robbed Anduin of a father. 

Anduin hushed the voice silently, knowing better than to speak to her aloud, and continued following Shaw down into the dungeons where a sturdy room with a solid metal door had been prepared. Honestly, Anduin wasn’t sure how much Sylvanas could dissipate into smoke, how small she could make herself, but he wasn’t going to take any risks. He ordered cloth to be sealed over the windows and vents and then, when that was done, took the key from Shaw and shooed everyone out. Alone with the metal box, about four feet cubed and pressed to the back wall, he took a deep breath and allowed the power of his weapon to fill him. As Xal’atath’s energy filled his body, and the power he’d borrowed from his chaining of N’Zoth came to his fingertips, he opened the box and watched in surprise as an exhausted Sylvanas pulled herself out and stumbled into the middle of the room, hissing like a cat. 

She appraised him, cocking an eyebrow and managing to look unimpressed even as she herself appeared no more threatening than a water-logged kitten. “Well, it seems the little lion has decided to outsource. Is it N’Zoth, or one of the other Old Gods?” 

“Quiet,” he barked, unsure where the solidity to his voice came from but leaning into it nonetheless, “You’ve committed crimes innumerable against the people of Azeroth, but I believe your crimes were committed with the belief that you were doing the best thing for this world. What were your plans?” 

“I’m not telling you, little lion. And if I were you, I would stop assuming the best in those who have proven time and again they have no love for your pathetic moral goodness,” she sneered, eyes turning red and body starting to shift into smoke and shadow. 

Before she could take her banshee form, however, Anduin reached out with his mind for the darkness of the room, the void that sat just a hair beyond this reality, and it surged forward in thick tendrils and smokey shadows that wrapped around her and held her in place even as she made her body less than solid. She yanked and tugged and tried to fly out of the grip of the void to no avail, and many moments of struggling later she finally sagged, glaring at him in fury. 

“Release me,” she demanded, voice low and cool and grating in a way that almost made him afraid. But he was beyond being afraid of her; he had chained a god, what was a queen?

“I don’t think I will. What are you planning, Sylvanas?” he asked, voice level and untrembling. 

She snarled, an ugly sound that reminded him of a caged and feral ghoul, baring her teeth at him wordlessly. Anduin sighed. If she wished to be difficult he would be difficult in turn, though he had hoped not to use more force than necessary. 

_ ‘You can bend her, break her, snap her spine and rearrange the pieces of her into what you want. Send her back out as a villain of your creation to make the world know how necessary my power and N’Zoth’s are to you. You can make her your creature, little king, you can make her mine.’ _

He looked at Sylvanas closely, and as he let Xal’atath creep into his mind and his sight he could swear he could see the cracks in her armour, the places she was vulnerable. Hmm… yes, that was it. She was proud she was dead and she reviled the thought of life. A shame, then, that he was such a talented priest.

“I think, Lady Windrunner, that you don’t understand quite what I’m doing here. See, as you are, you are too much a threat to the world. You’ve done nearly irreparable harm to Azeroth’s people and lands and as such I’m sure the Horde would see you put down. But me, I see an opportunity, a way to preserve you and Azeroth at once,” he continued, “I need a way to prove you are no longer a threat, a way to show the Horde and Alliance alike that you are nothing to be feared. I can think of two ways to do so: a) you tell me your plans in detail and show remorse for your actions or b) I can raise you back to life and rob you of the power that you so greatly abuse.” 

Though her face barely moved — naught but a small tick in her jaw showing her discomfort — the Void screamed with her stress, her unease and a warm, pleasant purr of satisfaction filled his mind. For a moment, he thought it was his own thoughts until Xal’atath spoke,  _ ‘Good, my little king. Very good. Watch how her soul reviles us, see how those cracks spread. Yes, push harder, wedge yourself in more, stretch those cracks until she breaks in our hands.’ _

“Tell me, Sylvanas, what would you be without death? What would you be without the suffering you cling to?” he taunted, stepping closer to her and starting to circle, like a vulture waiting for a creature to die so it could swoop in for its meal, “What would you have if you were no longer the Banshee, but simply Sylvanas?” 

She gritted her teeth and did not speak, but Anduin could tell he was touching a nerve. He continued to push, “I could take it from you, take all you’ve endured away and make you as you were and you know what the world would do? They would see it as a kindness, they would applaud me for saving you, for  _ fixing _ you.” 

She growled, “I’m not broken, little lion. Arthas didn’t break me, and neither will you.” 

“Arthas was the pawn of something bigger, I am the master. You will tell me your plans or I will tear you into so many pieces there’s nothing left to put back together,” he snarled. An idea struck him, and he grinned as he ordered the shadows to unbuckle her bracers and leg guards. “I don’t think you fully comprehend what I can see, Sylvanas, what I can know. I see your cracks, your weaknesses, your trepidations and concerns. You wonder if they’re coming for you, but you also know you’ve been far too distant a leader for them to worry yet. You wonder if Nathanos misses you. You wonder what it would be like if you had enough of a heart left to miss him.” 

She was silent but the clang of the removed armour hitting the ground rang louder than she could have spoken. The shadows moved on to removing her bicep-high mail-and-leather gloves and the armour from her thighs as Anduin continued to circle her. 

“I wonder… Do you realize that they don’t love you? That their fealty is not love, that their duty is not love, that their respect and fear are not love?” Her gloves and thigh plate dropped to the ground and the shadows moved on to her boots and pauldrons. “Do you truly, deeply understand that you, Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken, are completely and entirely unloved?”

“You will not break me, boy, not with your words or your shadows,” she snarled, baring her sharp canines at him again as if that would make him fearful.

As her pauldrons and boots fell to the floor, he laughed, a cold laugh that even to his own ears sounded so unlike his own that he wasn’t sure it was truly his voice for a moment. He shook the feeling off and sent the shadow on further, removing her breastplate and mail pants and then the leathers she wore underneath until she hung there, mostly bared to his gaze and the cold of the room, and he smiled. 

“You are a beautiful woman, Sylvanas, but I wonder if he ever loved you, or if you were an easy way through the ranks and a pleasant warmth in his bed,” he mused, knowing she knew who he spoke of, “And then in death, well, things change, don’t they? Nothing is quite as it was. You saved him, and then he owed you and it was never the same.” 

“You have no idea what you speak of, little lion. Who are you to speak of love? What could you know of it?” Her voice was cold and flat, but the tension in her jaw spoke leagues — he had touched a nerve, he had found a crack, and now all he needed to do was push.

“I know little of it from my own mind, but from yours…” he closed his eyes and reached out with the Shadow until he felt her mind there at the edge of his own, pressing ever so slightly until just a little hair of his consciousness rested within her own. He smirked. “You are terrified, not just of this, of what I’ve said or what I could do, but of him realizing in your absence how you’ve used him, how you’ve abused what he owed you. You worry that with distance he’ll gain clarity about Stephon’s death, about all of this. But more than that, you worry whether he loved you at all, even when you lived, or whether he was simply enamoured with your skill and status. Fascinating, really, how a woman with so much power can feel so destroyed by such small things as one man’s potential deceptions.”

“Get. Out. Of.  _ My. HEAD!”  _ she shouted. 

Anduin felt her push on the tether he’d created between their minds, but her efforts were futile to the strength of Shadow that coursed through him from both his own power and Xal’atath’s. “Tsk, tsk, Sylvanas, I’m only trying to help. We both know now that there is next to nothing for you to go back to. Your people only serve you because you’re useful to them, and your beloved only served you because he owes you everything he has. None of them love you, none of them are coming for you. Hells, they probably don’t even notice you’re gone yet,” he summarized mockingly, ordering the shadows to strip her of her last remaining clothing so she was fully bared, “So how about you tell me what your plans were?” 

She closed her eyes, trembling. Fists clenched and muscles tensed, she finally spoke, words ground out and rough, “Why are you doing this?” 

“I want to help you, Sylvanas, and I want to help this world. Let me do both, please. It’s what’s best for everyone.” 

But she shook her head. He could feel that that wasn’t what she’d meant, wasn’t what she’d been asking about, but he had no desire to give her any information she didn’t beg for so he remained silent while she debated how to phrase what she wanted to know. Finally, her eyes snapped open, but they had the sharp edge of determination in them that Anduin remembered from Lordaeron and he wondered if he’d missed something.

“Fuck me then and get it over with!” she snapped, starting once again to struggle against her bonds. 

Anduin paused, cocking an eyebrow. “What?” 

“That’s why you’ve stripped me, isn’t it? To fuck me like some toy? Well, go on then, do it. You won’t break me that way either,” she rasped with such vitriol in her voice Anduin was almost impressed.

“You misunderstand,” he said, laughing softly to himself, “I have no interest in putting my cock anywhere near you, Sylvanas. No interest at all.” 

“You didn’t strike me as someone so picky about their partner’s gender,” she sneered, clearly trying to insult him, but Anduin was immune to such quips. 

“It is not your sex that repulses me, but your circumstance. You are my prisoner and I have no interest in taking advantage of that fact,” he informed her, frowning when she snorted in reply.

“You’re willing to verbally abuse me and hold me aloft spread eagle but getting your cock wet is too far? Pathetic. And here I was thinking maybe you’d finally lived up to the balls your father had,” she sighed disappointedly. 

“I have principles, not that you would understand that. I have done nothing but tell you the truth; if that hurts you it is because your life is a tragedy that you’ve convinced yourself is a heroic triumph. Open your eyes, Sylvanas, this world is only your prison because you make it so.” 

“You know  _ NOTHING _ ,” she screamed, voice rising to the shill of a banshee wail and without quite thinking the action over, Anduin filled her mouth with Void to keep her silent. 

The tendril shoved past her lips and teeth and worked its way into her throat cutting off the sound at its source, and while Anduin had acted entirely in self-defence, he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he realized he could  _ feel _ the tendril as if it was a part of him. Her throat spasmed around the intrusion, fury and frustration filling her fading-from-red eyes as she tried and failed to hurt him the only way she was able given her position. Yet, for all she struggled and pulled on her binds, a strange, foreign sensation filled the part of his mind that he’d connected to her’s: arousal, and not his own. 

Curious, he drew the tendril in her mouth out a couple of inches before shoving it back in, watching as her eyelids fluttered and her body trembled. Deciding to repeat the action, which quickly devolved into a rhythm of fucking her mouth with the tendril, he raised an eyebrow as her arousal grew, a steady mounting pressure he could feel tethered to him, and made a decision he hadn’t anticipated having to make. 

“Snap your fingers if you want me to stop, Sylvanas,” he instructed flatly, trying not to show how much the sight before him and the knowledge of her arousal was affecting him. 

Her eyelids fluttered and she clenched her fists shut, but she made no move to snap and Anduin figured that was good enough. “If you need me at any point to stop, simply snap and I will withdraw the tendrils,” he said. 

Though the tremble of want had crawled its way into his voice, he remained steady and distanced from her — he didn’t need to touch her for this to be good for both of them, and he’d have far more plausible deniability if he didn’t. Sprouting a new tendril from the shadows that held her legs open, he traced it softly up the inside of her thigh until he reached the apex, surprised to find her cunt wet when the tendril traced over her lips. She made a choking noise around the intrusion in her throat and for a moment Anduin thought she would call a stop, but he could feel her anticipation and impatience through their mental link and knew her protests were more about what he hadn’t done than what he had. With that in mind, he ordered the tendril against her more firmly, feeling her slickness as it parted her lips and circled her clit almost teasingly slowly. 

As he sped the motions up, watching her fall apart as the heat built in her body, he was nearly consumed with the need to touch her, to feel her, to taste her, to fuck her, and he forced himself farther back against the wall in hopes the distance would help his control. He was aching in his trousers, but he would not touch her… or at least that’s what he told himself. When he felt the heat snap in her body and tumble her over the edge of orgasm his knees went weak, and though he slowed his ministrations on her body he did not stop — if she needed a break she would tell him, he had to trust that. 

Closing his eyes, he let himself more fully lean into the new senses he was granted by the Void, the way he could feel her arousal and need like it was part of his own mind, the way he could sense her desires just as clearly as he could see her, and most importantly, that the tendrils he’d summoned seemed to be an entirely sensory extension of himself. If he concentrated, he could taste her cunt through the tendril, feel her wetness and the way she throbbed with orgasm, and when he plunged the tendril between her legs into her, he felt the way she clenched around it as if it was his own cock. Her throat convulsed around the tendril there and he trembled, cock throbbing in need in his pants, but before he touched himself he managed to wrest control of his physical form enough to stop himself. That would only leave evidence, and that was the opposite of what he needed. 

He started fucking the tendril in and out of her cunt, once again floored by how slick she was, and groaned at the feeling of her body clenching down on it. Light but she felt good, slick and tight, and he wanted nothing more than to put his actual cock in her and see how good she would feel then, but he denied himself and focused on the tendril more closely. Despite the speed and depth with which he fucked her and the accuracy with which he could aim for her g-spot with every thrust, he could feel that it wasn’t quite enough, not quite what she needed to get off a second time. Well, if more was what she needed then more she would have. 

With barely a thought, he drew two additional tendrils out of the mass of shadows holding her in place, running one up the front of her thigh and the other down her spine. He found her clit with ease, able to sense from their connection just how much pressure to use to make it good, and she squirmed as he rubbed her in firm, slow circles. The tendril at her back slid down between her cheeks, stroking gently and massaging against her asshole but unlike the pressure on her clit, this made her tense and freeze, uncertainty straining against the pleasure in her mind. Anduin brought the tendrils to a pause and cocked an eyebrow, unsure whether she would call a stop. When she didn’t, he continued the motions, slow enough that she would have plenty of time to refuse him before he did anything she didn’t want. 

Just as he started pressing the second tendril inside her, realizing he could make it slick with his thoughts to ease the way, he heard her choke on the tendril in her mouth and snap. Without any hesitation, he drew everything away from her except what held her in place — he respected that ‘no’ but he wasn’t about to unleash her on himself until he was sure she wouldn’t just kill him while she had the chance. She panted, shivering, before she seemed to regain herself from her semi-panic and stilled.

“What the fuck are you getting at, Wrynn?” she rasped, voice raw and broken from having a tendril filling her throat for so long. 

“You wanted more,” he explained with a shrug, “I was trying to give it to you.” 

She growled. “First, I told you to get out of my head. Second, that isn’t what I meant by more. Why would you even think of that?” 

Suddenly he realized his mistake, and wasn’t sure how to explain without outing himself completely. “It’s… well… I’ve heard that it can be… good… for some people,” he got out haltingly. 

“Oh my, little lion, are you talking about yourself? Don’t tell me the king of Stormwind has a thing for taking it up the ass?” Her words were mocking in their tone but he sensed a genuine interest from her, a true curiosity as to whether that was what he liked. 

He sighed. “Yes, Sylvanas, I’m talking about myself. But that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be good for you as well, I’ve heard of people with your anatomy enjoying penetration there just as much as I do.” 

For a moment, and only a moment, he contemplated whether he’d be able to fashion a tendril onto her that would allow her to fuck him, but he knew that wouldn’t be possible in these circumstances. Despite the impossibility of it, though, the thought, and the desire that accompanied it, lingered, and he wanted it even if just to see if it was possible. But no, he couldn’t, not here and now in this cell when she was restrained as she was. When he refocused on her she was watching him with a sharp and knowing look in her eye, and he wondered how much his tether to her was mutual, how much she could see of him while he peered into her. 

“Well, I’m glad to know your little angel schtick is just a farce, that brings me some small joy in this miserable existence,” she drawled, and he didn’t bother to correct her in that sex was hardly something that took away from goodness or purity, or the fact that he made no attempt to frame himself as angelic, “But anyway, I don’t enjoy that. Don’t do it again.” 

“I won’t,” he promised, “Would… would you like to continue?” 

“Do I have a choice?” she sneered, clearly expecting him to say no.

“Of course. This is not part of your interrogation, and I have no desire to take advantage of you as a prisoner, as I’ve already said. You called a stop so I stopped, and we won’t continue again unless you wish to,” he assured her, but she seemed less than pleased.

“You’re so boringly good, you know. I’m here, spread out for your taking, and you’re leaning against the wall denying yourself and asking for my consent. Pathetic.” She rolled her eyes, but when he didn’t move or rise to her taunting, she sighed. “Fine, yes, continue.” 

He nodded, steeling himself for the flood of sensation, and returned the tendrils to where they’d been in contact with her previously, except for the one behind her, which he inserted into her cunt as well. Wrapping it’s thinner shape around the larger one that had been there before, he moved them in and out of her in tandem, angling so the newly formed ridges where the thinner one was would rub against where she was most sensitive. She cried out, hips jerking as much as they were able, and he shoved a tendril back into her mouth to keep her quiet — it wouldn’t do for the guards to overhear them.

As he quickened his pace, plunging into her cunt roughly before withdrawing languidly, he replaced the tendril on her clit, massaging with the perfect pressure to make her squirm and shake. A thought occurred to him and he withdrew it, earning him a glare that pierced through the lust-fog in her eyes, before replacing it slick and textured to hopefully feel like a tongue. She shuddered, back arching as she strained against her bonds in pleasure, and he figured he was doing a decent job of what he’d intended. 

The heat grew in her body, he could feel it through the tether, and for a time he assumed that the feeling was hers alone. But when she clenched hard on the tendrils in her cunt, squirming and writhing on them as he continued to fuck her on them hard, the heat in his own gut became a distinct pressure and he realized that this was doing it for him to a greater extent than he’d anticipated. With a few more thrusts aimed just right, paired with the flicking and massaging of her clit and the squirming of the tendril in her throat, Sylvanas was coming, body tensing and going entirely rigid and he brought her over the edge again.

As she pulsed and shuddered around the tendrils, body convulsing with the strength of her orgasm, Anduin couldn’t stop the heat that had been building within him from crashing into him full force. He came untouched in his trousers, grateful for his long coat that would hide the stain, and he leaned against the wall as he shook in the aftershocks. Light, he could swear he’d never come that hard before, and as sound slowly returned to him through his ringing ears he realized he hadn’t quite stopped touching Sylvanas. He ordered the tendrils away and out of her slowly, panting too hard to give the apology he should have for fucking her to the point of oversensitivity. 

“Before you call me a boy for coming in my pants,” he said, meeting her eyes and seeing the exact teasing in them that he’d expected, “Just know that I can feel the tendrils as if they’re a part of me. It was like fucking you myself.”

“And yet you wished you had, just to know for sure.” She smirked, knowing she was right.

“Yes and no. I wish I’d…” He shook his head. “No, never mind that. You still haven’t told me your plans, Sylvanas, and I can’t leave here until you do.” 

“If I tell you will you let me down so I can peg you like you’ve been fantasizing about for the past ten minutes?” 

His jaw clicked shut. Of course she’d seen into his thoughts enough to know what he’d been thinking, damn her. Then he realized the opportunity he had — not only was having her fuck him something he wanted, but it seemed like something she wanted as well. Perhaps he could get both things he needed at once, though he did doubt her sincerity. 

“Why should I trust you’re being honest with me, Sylvanas? Why should I trust you won’t hurt me if I let you down?” he asked.

“You shouldn’t,” she replied with a laugh, “But you’re in my head enough to know my offer is genuine. Plus, I’m plenty experienced, I’m sure I can make it good for you.”

He snorted. “You have no care to make it good for me, you just like the idea of having power over me.” 

“Fine, fine, you’re right enough,” she conceded, “Still, I will tell you what I’d planned if you agree to let me fuck you.” 

Where the change in motivations and sudden willingness to cooperate were coming from Anduin wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Alright Sylvanas, tell me your plan and I’ll let you peg me.”

He felt a hum in his mind, a defensive and possessive noise that could only really have one source, and he wondered if it was his complete control of the power she’d given him or the fact that he was going to allow Sylvanas to touch him that was causing Xal’atath to react that way. She did not speak, but he could feel her disapproval. 

“I’m glad we could come to an accord. I’m sure we’ll both enjoy this.” 

“I’m sure we will.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! As you might have noted there are hints of a sequel in there that I may or may not ever write. Kudos and comments mean the world, and let me know if you'd be wanting a second part!


End file.
